Alex Rider in The Broken Storm
by Myrtle the Tyrtle
Summary: Alex Rider is a 14yearoldorphan who comes home to find his 'lawyer' uncle has run off with his secretary. But Ian is actually an actor who has just landed a role in THE BROKEN STORM, directed by Mrs Jones. Can Alex step up and fill his uncle's shoes?
1. Chapter 1

**ALEX RIDER**

**-- IN --**

**THE BROKEN STORM**

**by Myrtle the Tyrtle**

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, including a full set of Alex Rider books, excluding the plot. Woe is me. **

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chapter One.**

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's never good when you arrive home from school to find a fleet of police cars outside your house. This was the case when Alex Rider found his way back home one Thursday afternoon. It had taken a tad longer than usual: mainly because the bullies that made his life a living hell had chased him to the other side of town. Seeing the three – no, four – police cars parked in the drive made him instantly forget the fact he had been picked last for soccer at break, again.

He manoeuvred through the hastily parked cars, and made his way to the front door. There was no need to knock: his uncle's housekeeper Jack always made sure the door was unlocked after 3pm, no matter how paranoid of ninjas he was.

"I'm home!" he called, and turned into the kitchen to come face to moustached face with a tall copper.

"Mr Rider, I presume?" said the policeman.

"Yes," answered Alex hesitantly.

"My name is Constable Jeremy Wells. You may want to sit down. We have some grave news."

He led Alex into the sitting room, where a handful of more policemen were seated. Alex lowered himself delicately into a chair – his limbs still hurt from the chase and beating which followed – and looked at the policeman to begin.

"I'm very sorry, Alex," he began, "but your uncle has skipped town."

Alex was shocked. He had never been very close to the middle-aged lawyer, but he was the only family he had, since his parents had died in a plane crash when he was a baby.

"Why?" he choked.

"He was having sexual relations with this woman," answered Constable Wells, holding up a black and white photograph. "Her name was Karen Hughes – _Mrs_ Karen Hughes. According to our sources, Mr Hughes found out this morning. He came to kill your uncle with a pistol we have located. Fortunately, perhaps, your uncle John got away with his girl. Mr Hughes promptly shot himself in the upstairs bedroom."

'_Think of something to say!_' thought Alex's brain. He said the first thing that came into his head. "Wow. My uncle Ian sure had it good."

The constable looked puzzled. "Er, yes. Now because your uncle has fled the country illegally, he has been declared technically dead. His will has come into play… only it doesn't leave you much. All his belongings were signed over last week to Mrs Hughes – and all her belongings have been donated to the Breast Cancer Foundation. You will be able to sort through what you wish to salvage before it is carted away."

"What about me? What's happening with me?"

Constable Wells consulted the multiple paged will. "'The care of my nephew, Alex Rider, is to be passed to the housekeeper Jack Lee.' Who is Jack Lee?"

"The housekeeper," Alex replied in a voice that conveyed his opinion that the constable wasn't all there. "He's almost seven foot tall, with a long black ponytail. He's an Asian."

"You mean this man?" one of the other policemen held up a photograph.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Oops. We, ah, kind of chased him off the property when we arrived. We, um, thought he was a vagrant."

"Where is he now?"

The policeman shrugged. "I'd suggest you get one of your uncle's associates to track him down. We've got enough on our hands at the moment – can you believe the donut manufacturers are on strike?"

He turned and went back through the kitchen and out the front door. The other policemen followed, and Alex was left alone in the quiet house.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was dark when Alex woke, yet the clock showed 9:42. This puzzled the boy for a minute, before he realised it was still night. He flicked the light on, and went to look at the mirror.

Staring back at him were a pair of piercing blue eyes surrounded by yellow-purple bruises. Alex tried to cover the bruises with his dark blonde hair (short at the front, long at the sides and back), but to no success. He decided his energies would be spent better making and eating some food, and climbed the stairs down to the kitchen.

"That's funny," he said softly, halfway down the stairs. "The lights are on." Creeping more cautiously now, he swung over the banister and jumped into the kitchen.

"Freeze!" he yelled. "Who goes there?"

An Asian man raised his peanut butter covered hands immediately, eyes wide with shock. When he realised it was just Alex a burst of exited Taiwanese flowed easily from his lips.

"Only Jack," sighed Alex, and went to the pantry to find some food. Boycotting the peanut butter, he decided on some chicken left over from last night. He tucked in hungrily, only to be interrupted by the telephone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Alex. It's just me."

"D-d-d-d-dan!"

"Yeah. D-d-d-dan. Listen, you'd better be coming to school tomorrow, coz I was a tad dissatisfied after our little game today. I was hoping we could play the same thing again at break."

"Go away you big meanie!" Alex slammed the phone down, and no sooner had he picked up his chicken, it began to ring again.

He summoned up his courage, and shouted, "I told you to leave me alone!" down the receiver.

"Actually, Mr Rider, we would prefer it if that didn't happen." Alex was surprised to hear a woman's voice – cool, calm and in control.

"Sorry about that, er… who exactly are you?"

"Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Mrs Jones. I worked with your uncle, and I am extremely upset and sympathetic for the way he left you."

"Mmm." Alex could tell she wasn't done yet.

"However, your uncle's disappearance has left us in a bit of a predicament. Could you perhaps come by our offices in Liverpool St tomorrow after school, perhaps? We could send a taxi?"

Alex thought back to his first call. "I'll be over at ten in the morning," he said. "And I'll take the tube."

"Excellent. Looking forward to seeing you there."

Alex rested the phone back on the cradle. He was now feeling to sick to eat, and left the chicken on the bench before returning to the bliss that was sleep.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: **Well, if you've made it this far, you've either read the whole thing or prefer author's notes to stories. Either way, I'd love it if you reviewed what you just read.

**Myrtle.**


	2. Chapter 2

**ALEX RIDER  
-- IN --  
T****HE BROKEN STORM**

**by Myrtle the Tyrtle**

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, including a full set of Alex Rider books, excluding the plot and ridiculous scenarios. Woe is me. **

**Chapter Two**

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Alex woke early the next morning to the sounds of birds chirping outside his window. He had always liked to listen to their colourful songs, but today he felt like he didn't want to get out of bed.

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Jack walked in. He clasped his hands together and bowed, as was his custom. He then gifted Alex a bowl of cereal and milk.

Even though he hated milk, Alex downed the bowl hurriedly. Except for a few mouthfuls of chicken, he hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day. Placing the bowl carefully beside the clock that read 9:37, he…

9:37!

He was going to be late! There was no way he could get from his house to Liverpool St in less than half an hour!

He jumped out of bed, and pulled on some clothes: a grubby white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and rushed to find his wallet.

By the time Alex had left the house it was 9:41. The tube station was at least six minutes away, and the next train left at quarter to ten. He was going to have to run.

Five minutes later, Alex was bent double, wheezing to a guard.

"You've got to let me on!" he panted.

"Sorry, bub. No can do. You've got to have a ticket." The man was unsympathetic.

"_Please!_ It's my… my grandma! She's sick, in the hospital! I need to get on the train! She could – " he turned on the puppy eyes " – die!"

The man was easily convinced. Evidently, Alex's acting skills weren't too shabby, and he raced onto the train a split second before it raced away.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

He had regained his composure by when the train arrived at his uncle's offices. Hesitantly, he walked up to a desk where a pretty young lady was sitting. The nametag read "Miss Starbright".

"Er, I'm here to see Mrs Jones," he said. "My name is Alex Rider. I'm Ian Rider's nephew."

She smiled, showing pearly white teeth. "Come right this way," she said in an American accent, and led him to an elevator.

"Mrs Jones' office is on the twenty-seventh floor."

"Thank you."

He rode the elevator alone, save for a short thin man with a receding hairline and a brightly coloured Hawaiian style shirt, who clambered in with what appeared to be a very full woman's purse on the third floor before getting off at the fifteenth.

At his stop, Alex stepped out to see a woman dressed entirely in black, with her grey hair tied up in a bun.

"Alex, hello. I am Mrs Jones. You can come into my office. I have a lot to discuss with you."

Without another word, she turned and led Alex to an office around the corner, and motioned for him to sit down in a hard backed chair

"Drink?"

"Just water, thanks."

She walked over to a cooler in the corner, and poured him a glass of water, before pouring a glass of champagne for herself.

"Alex Rider. I have brought you here because there is something I urgently need to discuss with you. It concerns your uncle."

"Well, I already know he's done a runner with his secretary, so I hope you've got some good news now."

"Good news? Well, I suppose it's all in the mindset. But I would like to share some rather _startling_ information with you, regarding your so-called 'lawyer' uncle."

Alex looked confused. "You mean he wasn't a lawyer?"

"That is correct. However, Ian had an occupation that was still of the utmost importance and secrecy."

"What? You mean he was a spy or something?"

"Good heavens, no!" laughed Mrs Jones. "Alex, your uncle was a travelling performer."

Alex sat there, half shocked, half surprised.

"Are you OK, Alex? You're not shocked or surprised?" asked Mrs Jones.

"No!" retorted Alex. "I'm just… why did he have to keep it a secret?"

Mrs Jones looked at him darkly. "It's a dangerous world out there, Alex. People will do anything to get their hands on a good actor, to extort them for evil usages. That's why we hide our identities by working in a 'law firm'."

"What happens if people find out? Do you kill people for knowing your secrets?" Alex suddenly realised that he could be in over his head.

"Oh, yes," came the casual reply. "Quite often, people will find themselves wearing concrete shoes in the Thames. Which brings us to the next matter of business…"

Alex pushed the chair back and stood up. "No! You can't kill me! I'm just a boy… fourteen is much too young to die!"

Mrs Jones smiled. "What about becoming a professional actor?"

Alex stared. "Excuse me?"

"You've already shown a great amount of talent Just now, and in the Underground (yes, he was one of us)… why, we've had a file on you since you were six years old!"

"But… how?"

"We keep files of all of our employees close relatives and other up-and-coming performers we've scouted from around the country. Your uncle has been training you up from the start of your school career, Alex. Training you for a different career entirely. Did you ever wonder why you took speech lessons instead of rugby? Theatre sports instead of soccer? Ballroom dancing and instrumental classes on the violin and trombone?" She smiled again. "It's a family business, Alex."

"Let me get this straight. I learn your greatest secrets and instead of killing me you employ me?"

Mrs Jones laughed. "Oh, you surely didn't believe that whole killing yarn did you? I must be a better actress than I thought!"

Alex felt foolish. "When do I start?"

"Well, there are auditions for _The Pirates of Penzance_ coming up in September…"

"Nothing earlier?"

"Well, we were thinking about your schooling, of course. We can't afford you being interrupted in the middle of the year."

"I don't mind."

"In that case… there's one role going at the moment… it was your uncle's until he left with his floozie."

"What play is it?"

"A new one actually. The world premiere of _The Broken Storm_ is lined up for one month from now, so you'd better get ready."

"You mean I can have it?"

"Sure. After what I've seen and read of you, Alex, I think you'd be the best man for the job. Mr Blunt, the executive producer thinks so as well."

"Great. I'm in! I just have one more question: what is the name of this theatre group?"

"We usually use bizarre pseudonyms, but the official name is Musical International 6."

Alex almost choked laughing. "MI6!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

**A/N: While writing this, I realised that fifteenth is a very funny word to both listen to and write down. Odd are the things you think of while writing fan fiction.**

**Next chapter: Alex meets Mr Blunt and the rest of the cast. Should be up soon, if all goes well.**

**Myrtle.**


End file.
